Never
by Unformal Sorrelle
Summary: There are some characters in this world that should NEVER be tributes. Ever. This of course is a story about one of them. Now: The Author tries again with a certain mad Time Lord. Oh dear.
1. Chapter 1

Never

Or what should never be a tribute in the Hunger Games

* * *

Many Hunger Games crossover fics include a character from the other universe volunteering as a tribute. With some tributes, this doesn't work so well. Whether it be from the character becoming OOC, not being Katniss or having a huge advantage, there are some characters that should never join the Hunger Games. Ever. Sometimes it's just wrong. Horribly, and utterly wrong.

This just happens to be that case.

In this particular instance, just like an overwhelming majority of Hunger Games fics, crossovers or not, the main character is forced to volunteer for the Hunger Games. Some suitably cute or pathetic kid gets their name called and the protagonist has no choice but to take their place.

However, in this particular case, the new designated tribute yelled out a very different word than the usual plea of "I volunteer!"

The word was simple, four easy syllables, yet a surefire harbringer of doom. A promise that could not be broken. Power. Fear. Emotionless.

"EXTERMINATE!"

Yes. Some fool had decided to enlist a _Dalek_ in the Hunger Games. Panem was doomed.

The cute, crippled kid with a fatal disease the Dalek had been forced to save from the horrors of the Hunger Games was unceremoniously lazerbeamed into oblivion. Then half the District and all the Peacekeepers in Twelve. The other half would have been exterminated as well but the author had moved the Dalek to the farewell room.

The farewell room didn't go well. This didn't go so well since Daleks don't have any friends. The author had tried to compensate by throwing a bunch of Cybermen in with it, figuring that homicidal robots would get along.

Five million Cybermen were slaughtered before the short time period was up.

Again, the setting changed and the Dalek found itself on the train. It found itself a window and gleefully, at least as gleefully as a giant robotic trashcan could be, exterminated anything that moved. If it could have gotten happy it would have been very proud of itself.

The author again changed the setting, this time to the chariots. The Dalek seemed to amuse itself by firing at the audience, adding more light to its already glowing fire costume. Although, interesting sidenote, a Dalek wearing Katniss's fire costume isn't as weird as it sounds. It's strangely epic in a metaphorical way. Then again, if you start involving too many metaphors than things can get crazy. The Dalek had no wish to turn into a burrito so it shot the epic metaphor paragraph off of the computer screen.

The Dalek triumphed over all the challenges put in front of it. It exterminated Caesar Flickerman before the interview started. And President Snow because he was in range. The training days consisted of it blowing everything up. Eventually it got time for it to get it's training score. Like many fanwritten tributes, it got a highly unusual score. However, this time it wasn't because of excess of talent or Mary Sue prowess- The Dalek had killed all of the Gamemakers.

The author skipped the bloodbath, trying to focus for on the angst than the action. The Dalek wasn't really the angsting type. It wasn't hungry because it had no need to eat. It wasn't thirsty because it didn't drink. It wasn't horrified about killing people. It wasn't scared. It wasn't moping about loving it's district partner.

Daleks didn't do love. When the author had tried to make both of the tributes from Twelve ally up so they could discover their secret feelings for each other... It wasn't pretty. To summarize, the other tribute from Twelve was dead. Very dead. Extremely dead.

After that mess, the Dalek flew around the area, exterminating everything in its path. In less than three minutes, all human tributes were dead.

The Dalek got crowned Victor but them killed everyone else.

The Dalek was such a nice person, right?

Panem was no more, a ghost empire.

Somehow, I think, although the Capitol was disposed of, which is always good, the Dalek missed the point about being the replacement Mockingjay. But that's ok. Dalek logic is cool.

However, the Dalek grew bored with the remains of Panem and made an extremely stupid decision. It flew over an ocean and landed in London. I have no idea what it was thinking. You'd think aliens would learn things, but they never do.

Within five minutes, a blue police box materialized.

Within forty-two minutes, the Dalek race had been wiped from creation yet again. Not permanently, you understand, but until some other excuse comes up that allows their return for another forty something minutes in London.

However, a Dalek isn't the worst thing that could join the Hunger Games. Imagine the Vashta Nerada, the Silence, a Weeping Angel or the Master. Imagine the destruction they would cause. The living shadow would eat everyone, blatantly ignoring the rule about eating people. The Silence, whether it be a headless monk or one of those creatures that are never really named, would also cause mass destruction. They could turn the Hunger Games into psychopath training and turn the kids into their soldiers. A Weeping Angel... may actually not be so bad as long as there's a camera or human eyes on it at all time. They'd have to be careful about not staring into its eyes though, otherwise Panem would be a country of stone Angels. The Master would be an even worse dictator than Snow, although, granted, he would smell a lot better.

Or you have what would happen if the man with the blue box found out about the Games. He has obliterated empires, species, universes and times. He is feared by the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Silence, the Universes. He is loved by many, so very many. If you kill him, he will not die.

And he happens to like children very much. He can't stand to hear them cry. Imagine what could happen if he heard them die...

* * *

**A/N**: So? What do you think? If you've ever read my other fic, "How The Cullens Met Their Doom" than you agree it was written in a slightly similer vein, excluding the acute lack of epic metaphor- though only because the Dalek exploded it first :)

May I ask for your review? Please? For some reason they make me really happy. Also, for some reason my brother wanted me to actually write more of this- actually go in depth of what would happen if the Master became a tribute or perhaps Davros or something... Do you agree or like it how it is?


	2. Take Two The Master

Never

Or who should never be a tribute in the Hunger Games

Take Two

_Spoilers up to Mockingjay; if you want to avoid them, just skip Katniss's paragraph of complaining. _

* * *

The Master blinked when he found himself in a large crowd. He blinked again; completely and utterly confused.

"What?" He exclaimed as he squinted at the around him. Why was he in a crowd of young humans? This made absolutely no sense.

He checked the back of his hands- he still hadn't regenerated. That was good he supposed, he kind of liked his most recent form. However, he wasn't a blue lightningy skeleton thing. He was back, in one piece, in a crowd of children, facing a stage.

If he had finally gotten to the afterlife he wanted a refund.

Effie Trinket leaned into the microphone, accidently jostling her extremely pink hair enough for a single strand to fall out of place. Not that anyone could tell. However, if anyone had noticed that the whole HAYRE CEMENT CO. would be in trouble.

"And our final tribute is Little Boy Blue! A five year old that somehow slipped into our 'random' Reaping! Oh look at him, he's so adorable! Too bad he's the only support system of his whole street and they'll starve if he leaves!" Effie trilled, only stopping when a man with an attaché case whispered in her ear, "Ooh, sorry, he's actually a victim. A victim of horrible tragedy! That... may be related to him having to support his whole street...?" Effie looked questioningly at the man with the attaché case, "Oh, you mean victim-victim? Someone who get's taken care of and protected? 'Cause they can't do anything for themselves? Oh, alright. The one supporting his whole street is his brother! His brother is called the Master by the way!"

"That's not my brother!" The Master protested,

"Ooh, goodie! A volunteer!" Effie clapped her hands,

"No I didn't! A volunteer for what?" The Master demanded, "Oi, Stupid-hair, I'm talking to you!"

"May the odds be ever in your favor!"

...

The renegade author from the Dalek Games had been sitting in a closet, hiding from the fallout. It was a very small and cramped closet, and the author was very uncomfortable. The author was also very sad. Extremely sad. Practically in shock. In fact, the author would go so far to describe itself as catatonic (even though it clearly wasn't).

The author couldn't understand what had gone wrong with it's fic! It had inadvertently brought down all of Panem!

_Stupid Dalek._ The author typed on a laptop it had managed to smuggle in the closet. Then it pressed the backspace key thirteen times.

It decided that it was an author! And authors wrote! No one and no thing would stop an Author! No, no. Nothing! The author would triumph! It would never let something so insignificant- nay, harmless- as a Dalek get the best of it!

The author didn't even realize the extent of stupidity that last sentence had taken.

So, the silly, silly, silly Author decided to try again.

The Author was drawing up a blank for Doctor Who characters. Who was there again? Ross? Mart? Dawnie? Mya? Rorrana? No... None of those sounded right.

It tells you something when this author couldn't even remember what the main character was called. Of _Doctor_ Who.

Somehow the Author remember the Master and decided he'd be perfect. Through him it'd master it's story! It would! It would!

Nope.

...

The Master found himself in another room and was told he had a few minutes to tell his family and friends goodbye.

The Master's family was kinda dead and the term 'friends' to the Master was like the word 'platypus' to an orange- as in, the two really did not go together.

The closest thing to a friend, his greatest enemy, appeared for some unexplained reason.

The Master didn't recognize him.

"Don't tell me you're my other 'brother'?" the Master eyed the young man with... um... probably-close-to-sentient hair.

"I really don't think so. It hasn't been disproven but it certainly nowhere near confirmed. Ok!" The young man clapped his hands together, "I'm not even going to ask how you escaped the Time Lock- You are better at surviving than a cockroach and I suppose I never actually saw you fall in the Time Lock with Rassilon and the bunch- You just shot that blue stuff, flash off light, kabloom, you're not there anymore- so assuming you went with the rest of the Time Lords is just ridiculous and-"

"Eh, who are you again? Have we met?"

"Oh, yes! I forgot, new face and everything. Hello, I'm the Doctor!"

"I don't think you've been this young since the Academy." The Master observed, "But wait, you can't be the Doctor! Time Lords can tell who's a Time Lord and I didn't happen to notice you were one before!"

"Shh!" The Doctor hushed, "That's not important. What is important is why did you pull me out of my TARDIS! How could you, it shouldn't be possible, I mean it's happened before, but, how did you bring me here?"

"I didn't. I don't even know what I'm doing here."

"So someone's gathering Time Lords... " the Doctor snapped his sonic screwdriver out and took a quick reading, "Oh, that's interesting! That's really cool!"

"Cool?" The Master shot the younger looking man a disparaging look,

"This isn't actually real, I'm not actually here."

"Then where are we?"

"Fiction apparently, haven't been here for years- second incarnation I think, but,"

"Would you shut up!" the Master barked, "But are you real?"

"No. Hmm, never been not real before this-"

"Am I real. Doctor! Am. I. Real?"

"I can't say for sure, I'm not actually real, as I said before. Anything I say could be a plot point."

A man with an attaché case whispered in his ear.

"Oh-oh, actually, ignore everything I said. That dialogue wasn't actually written. This bloke here said that the Author just skimmed over this with the sentence 'The Master and the other alien talked animatedly.' It didn't actually specify me or what you could find out."

"It? The Author?"

"This is a fanfiction apparently and since it's online, no one can tell anything about the Author. I don't completely understand it myself, like I can't imagine who'd ever be a fan of you. Then again, you did have that cult."

"What can I say Doctor, people love me." The Master smiled before shifting back to the problem at hand, "But am I real? And who's the man with an attaché case?"

"This Author messed up on her last story so much that well- basically, he is going to try to keep the story from getting out of control."

"Times up!" A peacekeeper removed the Doctor. Little Boy Blue came in blubbering.

The Master didn't like blubbering.

...

The Author skipped the train ride in favor to jumping to the Chariots. The Master stood next to Katniss who was decidedly out of character.

"I'm so tired of this!" She cried, "They say they're my fans! They say they love me! And then the go and make me go through the Games, again and again- as if once wasn't enough! Then they write about my sister going through the Hunger Games! Then they create their own characters and make them fight to the death!"

"Would you shut up!" The Master was growing very annoyed of this universe. Everyone was ether prattling on or blubbering. If he got his hands on the Author, he was going to kill it dead.

"The worst thing is what my own Author did to me. Third book, last of the series, and she decides to either make everything go crazy or die! And then, she forces me to make a completely OOC decision and reinstate the Hunger Games- something against everything I'd ever said or done previously!"

The Master ran his fingers through his hair and looked around. He'd had enough. The world was officially to crazy when he started being the sanest one in the room. There was only one thing to do. His face took up a bright smile and he jumped out of the Chariot.

"Hello Panem!" He called, spreading his arms out wide, "I got another plan!"

...

The Master never made it to the Arena. He instated himself as President and sent Snow to his newly created Annoyance Games along with Katniss and Little Boy Blue. Anyone who annoyed him would have to fight to the death. Or something. He was changeable. The Master liked to keep things interesting.

The Master had decided that he was going to establish an EMPIRE. Not just Panem, but he was going to develop technology to break into other fanfics.

The Doctor could never stop him. He wasn't even real.

...

The Author resumed it's sobbing.

* * *

**A/N**: I hope this lives up to it's predecessor. I personally like it so I hope you do to.

Reveiwers-

Vilinye- Thanks! I'm glad I could make you laugh. In real life no one laughs at my jokes. I'm just glad I can write them.

The Random Panda- Your reveiw is the best I've gotten in a while. It seriously just made me smile when I read it. Thank you for that. Doing this with other fandoms would be interesting to say the least. Just imagine Hulk... Sherlock would drive everyone crazy and declare the Hunger Games boring. Moriarty would get a kick out of them. Loki... I think he'd get beat up, magic or not.

InazumaNeko- Thank you! I love when I manage to make people laugh- it doesn't really happen much. I hope this chapter also happened to make you laugh.

VoodooChild3000- A comic? That would be awesome. I would love to see that! Seriously, that would be epicipipical! I know I have a very clear picture of the dalek just going around gleefully shooting people and it'd be nice to see that. Unfortunately, my drawing skills are... I wouldn't say bad but they aren't excellent either. If anyone else wanted to do it though, I'd love to see it. But thanks for your review, I might write a chapter for the Doctor someday but not until I get sutibly inspired- I assure you that if/when I write his piece it's going to be perfect.


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